“She’s dead.” Anna sobbed into his chest, fisting his shirt as she did. “I-I knew something was wrong b-but I didn’t think-“
“Shh, it’s alright. Don’t speak.” Doran soothed, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her. He bounced a bit, a futile attempt at calming Tristan but the boy’s tears showed no signs of relenting.
When their father slammed his snout into the wall again, Tristan’s pitch increased and Annaise fisted Doran’s shirt tighter. He decided then that this was not the best scene if he wanted the siblings to calm down.
How could anyone be calm when they watched their last surviving family member lose his mind?
They wouldn’t voice out their thoughts but they all knew that it was a matter of time before their father eventually took his own life. That was how it went with
